Playing the Fool
by Victory Thru Tears
Summary: Post-Hogwarts. Voldemort has won the war, and the remnants of the Order must try and rise again to restore good and all of that. Can they do it, even with a Harry who doesn't remember past his fifth year?
1. Prologue: A Series of Articles

**Title:** The Good Fight  
**Author:** Victory Thru Tears  
**Author email:**  
**Rating:** PG-15. Use your own discretion, I guess.  
**Spoilers:** All 5 books. Sorry.  
**Summary:** A post-Hogwarts fic. Our favorite characters deal with the consequences of the war -- that they lost. The remnants of the Order try to salvage what they can under Voldemort's regime. When Harry, who has been missing since the end of the war, is found; can they try and figure out a way to fix the world once again?  
**Disclaimer:** I so don't own these characters. JKR, Warner Brothers, Scholastic, blah blah blah. Also. Slash. Can't handle, don't read.  
**Distribution:** Here, Schnoogle, my site. if anyone else wants it, ask away. 

**Author's Note**: This is intended to be a three-fic series, under the title of "The Good Fight." The first fic is entitled "Playing the Fool," and this is merely the prologue to the series. It's very long, and complicated...so I suggest that you not get involved if you don't want to read that sort of thing.  
The first chapter will be up shortly, this is just a small teaser to give a bit of background to what has happened to our characters before we meet up with them again in September of 2000. 

Thank you, and please review if you like it! 

_A series of articles_

_The Daily Prophet, June 28, 1998_

**The Boy Who Lived Becomes a Man**  
**Harry Potter Graduates Hogwarts**At the end of the Hogwarts graduation ceremony last Sunday, the old stone walls were forced to once again let out a handful of brilliant young minds, _reports Rita Skeeter_. Among them was Harry Potter, a boy most notably known for his victory over He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named as a mere infant. _Prophet_ reporters cornered the young man, congratulating him on his excellence in school. The boy replied with tears in his eyes, "I just wish my parents could have lived to see this…" Lily and James Potter (deceased 1981) graduated Hogwarts with top honors twenty years ago, and their son may still follow in their footsteps. Though he ranked very poorly in his N.E.W.T level classes at Hogwarts, he is rarely seen without the company of the graduated Head Girl of Hogwarts, the most charming Hermione Granger. Close friends of the couple say that there is no doubt that it was she that passed him through the past few years. In return, Miss Granger was awarded her fifteen minutes of fame as the Girl on the Boy Who Lived's Arm. Perhaps it is a match well made, though Miss Granger is the same girl that trampled young Harry's affections three years ago, during the Triwizard Tournament. Young Mister Potter plans to now work in the Ministry of Magic, perhaps to begin Auror training. When asked about this, Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge replied, "Ah…Harry, yes. Well, Harry Potter, you know. We've all got a bit of a soft spot…" Perhaps Mr. Fudge is only so allowing because of the massive amounts of ridicule and slander the boy has been forced to go through, much at the hands of our own Minister of Magic himself…_(article continued on page 4)_

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_Owl to Hermione Granger, June 29, 1998_

Dear Hermione,  
I'm sure by now you've gotten the article by Rita Skeeter in the _Daily Prophet_. Wasn't it a laugh? Not only did she find a polite way to call me stupid, but she even brought you into the mix again. The bit about Fudge did make me laugh, though. And she's still on about my parents? At least she's toned down a bit, maybe you got to her more than we thought.  
But listen, the whole reason of writing you this letter was to let you know about the next meeting. Can't write it in here, you know and everything. But I just needed to tell you that it's very important that you find a way to make it. There is new information that would be too hard to pass through owl post.  
Hope this letter finds you well.  
Ron and the others say hello,  
Harry

_Diary of Molly Weasley, July 19, 1998_

Harry, Ron, and Hermione have been inducted into the Order. A year too late, Ron tells me, but we told them they must finish school first. Now they have, and the boys are going into Auror training, and Hermione is interested in Healing.  
Sometimes I think it's too much. Seeing all of them so grown up, together, so capable. They're not children anymore. And I wonder how we have gotten this far together, and I hope more than anything that we can get through the rest.  
  
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_Owl to Ginny Weasley, August 1, 1998___

HOGWARTS SCHOOL  
_of_ WITCHCRAFT _and_ WIZARDRY  
  
Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE  
(_Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,_  
_Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. Of Wizards_)  
  
Dear Miss Weasley,  
We are pleased to inform you that you have been granted the position of Head Girl at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for the school term of 1998-1999. We have no doubts that you will continue the duties in the same tradition of many witches before you.  
Your badge is enclosed, as well as your list of books and materials required for your seventh year.  
Yours sincerely, 

Minerva McGonagall  
_Deputy Headmistress_  
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_Owl to Narcissa Malfoy, August 29, 1998_

My dear Mrs. Malfoy,  
You will be pleased to learn that at the stroke of midnight, your son joined the ranks of the most powerful men to ever grace the country of England. The mark on his arm burns red, just as the fire in his soul. He will make his family proud.  
Yours,  
Lucius

_Order of the Phoenix Meeting Minutes as taken by Nymphadora Tonks, October 5, 1998_  
- dementors : totally off. Under dark lord's power, only lured by more death and destruction. Why would we want them on our side anyway?  
- centaurs : they hate us. I don't get why we're wasting breath on this anyway. Useful buggers, but will probably not help, nor hinder us.  
- goblins : finally agreed to help us. In exchange for gold. Bloody greedy bastards, don't they care that the world is falling apart?  
- giants : According to source of Maxime, a colony is in Pyrenees? Quite possible, French government likes to ignore anything Brits do…  
- merpeople : useful to have on our side if we ever need underwater help. Since when does dark lord swim? Shacklebolt and Potter check it out for us.  
- werewolves : A. Weasley find werewolf registration, he and Lupin try to get more on our side. Prejudices, dark lord, I think I stopped listening about here?

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_Ministry of Magic Auror Training First Behavioral Pattern Test Results, November 27, 1998_  
**Harry J. Potter -- PASS**  
_Examined by Jane E. Parks_

Shows stability of mind and good level of confidence. Does not seem to find self infallible, yet made decisions with ease and conviction. Did not respond to plain attacks made against him, instead seemed to disregard opinions. No signs of mental instability, or any outrageous temper (as previously indicated in reference made by Cornelius Fudge). Tactful during mock questioning of witness, polite in dealings with any others around him. PASS.

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_Owl to Rubeus Hagrid, January 1, 1999_

Hagrid,  
Happy New Year. We're sorry we're not there to see you; it feels strange not to walk out of the Great Hall and through the snow to your cabin. You're always in our thoughts, and we look forward to seeing you as soon as possible.  
Do hope you enjoyed your Christmas gift; we loved our scarves very much. You must have spent a long time knitting them, and we very much appreciate the thought and effort you put into them. They're lovely.  
Harry and Ron are spending most of their time at the Ministry with training; I don't see them as much as I usually would. At least it's good to see them putting effort into something – even if I wish they had done the same while we were in school.  
We do miss you, and Fang too. Whenever you're in London, please stop and see us. We all send our love, especially Harry, Ron, and me.  
Love from  
Hermione

_Order of the Phoenix Meeting Minutes as taken by Nymphadora Tonks, February 12, 1999_  
- Three new members. Terry Boot, Susan Bones, Neville Longbottom.  
- Def. Colony of giants in Pyrenees. Maxime & Hagrid to go within the month. Hehehe.  
- Granger, Lupin, & Bones to go to Egypt for Healing Potions – faster and more effective in case of quick need like in battle. We all have to wear hip flasks like Moody?  
- Snape reports that Death Eaters are focusing on Wizards, not Muggles. Hope for a victory here before turning this into a larger scale war -- Makes sense as to why things are still relatively quiet.

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_Owl to Harry Potter, March 15, 1999_

You are cordially invited to the marriage of  
_William Peter Weasley_  
To  
_Fleur Aimeé Delacour_  
On the twenty-third of April  
Nineteen Hundred and Ninety-Nine  
Please send return owl to Molly Weasley  
As soon as possible

  
  
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_Owl to Hermione Granger, May 28, 1999_

Dear Hermione,  
I was very happy to get your last letter. I'm glad you're enjoying Egypt, I always knew you would. It's just the type of place for you, all that ancient magic and no one to understand it the way you do.  
Things here are alright. Harry and I have passed onto a whole new level of Auror training, a whole three months before they expected us to. They say that we have capabilities that only one Auror in five decades comes along with! It feels good to be making such progress, but it's not really the same without you bothering us to do extra work, even though we're out of school.  
Are you coming back soon? I know you keep saying that you'll come back when you can, but when will that be? I haven't had a chance to properly talk to you since – Bill and Fleur's wedding and…well, I don't think we really ended things properly then, 'Mione. D'you think you can forgive me for being such a prat?  
Just come back when you can, Harry and I have loads of new spells that we want to show off to you.  
Well, bye –  
Ron

_The Daily Prophet, June 30, 1999_

**The End of the Wonderful Weasley's**  
**Brutal Murder in Ottery St.Catchpole Rocks Wizarding World**  
  
As the nine members of the Weasley family sat down to dinner on the 29th of this month to celebrate the graduation of the youngest member of their clan, they had no idea that they would be sitting down to their doom, _writes Cara Ogdenburst_. At approximately half past six, a large number of Death Eaters stormed into their home, killing every member of the family except the youngest son, Ronald Weasley. Arthur Weasley was an official at the Ministry of Magic, in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office. Mrs. Molly Weasley, called "sweet" and "a very loving mother" by friends of the family, spent her time taking care of the many children in her clan. William, eldest son of the Weasley's and Head Boy in his time at Hogwarts, was a senior bank official at Gringotts in London. His wife, Fleur Weasley, was not at the family home at the time of the attack, but was not available for comment. Charles Weasley, a Dragon Keeper in the Romanian Dragon Reserve, was only visiting for the family dinner at the time of the attack. His co-workers expressed the strongest of grievances at his death, and called him a "man from a family where every heart is as strong as a dragon's." Also killed in the attack was Percy Weasley, second Head Boy in the family and Senior Assistant to the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge. Fudge expressed his sorrow at the death, once again proclaiming his vehemence in apprehending all of the Death Eaters responsible for the recent attacks on families of all kind. Two other members of the Weasley family fatally injured in the attack were Fred and George, known best as the young proprietors of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes joke shop in Diagon Alley. The twins were the inventors of popular tricks, such as Wildfire Whiz-Bangs and Concealable Cinder-Busters. The co-owner of the store and long-time friend of the Weasley twins, Lee Jordan, was not available for comment. The final casualty in the attack was Virginia Weasley, youngest member and only daughter of the Weasley clan. She had just recently graduated Hogwarts as Head Girl, and it was for this that the family sat down to celebrate. Close sources say that Virginia was preparing to become an Auror, just the same as her older brother Ronald, the only surviving Weasley. By a stroke of luck, both he and Harry Potter, a dinner guest at the home of the Weasley's, were spared from the atrocious display of cruelty to such a likeable family.

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_Owl to Hermione Granger, June 30, 1999_

Hermione,  
I have no doubt that you have seen the article, and all I can say is that I am at least relieved that it was not written by Rita Skeeter. I don't know how I could have taken anything from that woman, not about something like this.  
Since we have not heard from you since the owl we sent last night, I have sent Pigwidgeon on again after Hedwig. I know we said in the last one that it was not necessary for you to come, but I'm starting to rethink that.  
Too much has happened in the last twenty-four hours. I'm sick just thinking of it all.  
We need you here. Ron needs you here.  
Harry

_Order of the Phoenix Meeting Minutes as taken by Nymphadora Tonks, July 10, 1999_  
- One new member. Draco Malfoy.  
- Snape and Malfoy confirm that dark lord is virtually clueless on Order's doings. Fudge still unwilling to spoon out Aurors into actively searching for Death Eaters. Death Eaters number close to 2000, possibly more?  
- Healing potion mission (Bones, Lupin, & Granger) successful. Two new recipes attained. But take months to brew?  
- Giants mission 2 unsuccessful. Maxime and Hagrid believe that next hope for them may be in colony in Russia. Too far? This is getting more and more hopeless, it seems.

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_The Daily Prophet, September 18, 1999_

**Death of Top Ministry Auror Astonishes Community**  
**Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody Found Dead**The Wizarding world was in for a shock yesterday morning when Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody was found dead in his home,_ reports Alicia Spinnet_. The cause of death looked to be a heart attack, though close friend of Moody, Elphias Doge, insists that "a mere heart attack would not be the end of Mad-Eye Moody. This was fraud, I tell you, and the ones who did it will not go unharmed!" A fair warning, from a man with a history almost as colorful as Moody's own. Alastor Moody had a celebrated reputation as an Auror, renowned for the capture of numerous Dark wizards. Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, member of the International Confederation of Wizards, and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot gave the _Daily Prophet_ a few words expressing his grief upon hearing the tragic news. "Alastor Moody was a man that never looked at what an ordinary eye could see. He encouraged others to do the same, and I can only hope that he touched them in the way he would have wanted to." _(Continued on page 3…)_  
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___Owl to Minerva McGonagall, October 31, 1999___

Minerva,  
We _don't know where he is_. If he is not dead, then where has he gone? What will become of us if Harry is not here?  
We are doing our best to continue looking. But I fear it has become hopeless.  
- Remus

_Hidden Letter to the Order of the Phoenix, October 31, 1999_

My dear friends.  
I fear that you will never understand what I have done. But if there is nothing you understand that I have given you, know that I believe there is still hope for you all in another time, in a new place, under new circumstances. Let your paths unfold before you; let them take you in new directions. Sometimes we all must sacrifice a little bit before the fruits of our labor can be borne. Do not let yourselves remain unchanged. Let time take you forward.  
Perhaps that is when we will finally win this war.  
  
Albus Dumbledore

_The Diary of Remus J. Lupin, October 31, 1999_

Harry is gone. Dumbledore is dead. The power of Voldemort seeps over us like a blanket. Britain has fallen. Merlin save us all.

_The Daily Prophet, November 3, 1999_

**New Minister of Magic Sworn In**  
**Promises to Bring Power and Strength to Wizarding Nation**In his address to the nation this past Tuesday, new Minister of Magic Lucius Malfoy promised large changes in the way our country has been run in the past, _reports Blaise Zabini_. His speech, bordering on shocking to many, focused on rethinking the long worn out traditions of our community and re-evaluating the world in respect to Wizarding kind. A strong quote from the speech proclaims, "Wizards have long been repressed by the non-magical beings we know as Muggles. How can this be? We are more powerful; we should not be forced into hiding and acting as the lesser being. It is high time that we step up to the challenge, and retake the power that we have been given by our ancestors." The speech is being replayed twenty-four hours a day on the WWN, for any who were unlucky enough to miss it…_(article continued on page two)_

_Confidential Ministry Memo, November 11, 1999_

**Department of Magical Law Enforcement**  
_The Order of the Phoenix_  
Compiled by W. Macnair  
  
Bones, S. – _deceased_  
Boot, T. – _Azkaban_  
Davies, R. – _cleared_  
Diggle, D. – _deceased_  
Doge, E. – _Azkaban_  
Dumbledore, A. – _deceased_  
Fletcher, M. – **_Missing and highly dangerous_**  
Hagrid, R. – _Azkaban_  
Granger, H. – _deceased_  
Jones, H. – **_Missing and highly dangerous_**  
Jordan, L. – _deceased_  
Longbottom, N. – **_Missing and highly dangerous_**  
Lupin, R. – _deceased_  
Malfoy, D. – _deceased_  
McGonagall, M. – **_Missing and highly dangerous_**  
Moody, A. – _deceased_  
Podmore, S. –_ Azkaban_  
Potter, H. – _deceased_  
Shacklebolt, K. – _Azkaban_  
Snape, S. – _Azkaban_  
Tonks, N. – _Azkaban_  
Vance, E. – _Azkaban_  
Weasley, A. – _deceased_  
Weasley, B. – _deceased_  
Weasley, C. – _deceased_  
Weasley, F. – **_Missing and highly dangerous_**  
Weasley, F. – _deceased_  
Weasley, G. – _deceased_  
Weasley, M. – _deceased_  
Weasley, R. –_ deceased_  
Wood, O. – _deceased_


	2. Chapter One: That Which Is Forgotten

**Author's Note**: So this is September of 2000, almost a year after all of that stuff has taken place that you read about in the prologue. And...our story starts. Let me add, I apologize for any suckage in the layout of the chapter; wouldn't let me do a lot of stuff to make it easier to read.

Thank you, and please review if you like it!

** Chapter One  
That Which Is Forgotten**

The wind was warm, customary for early September weather. It floated through, over, and under him, and he understood this to be the one place he belonged...in the sky. Flying had always been a thrill for him, and the feeling did not diminish even when he had been doing it for so long. He felt complete up here, untouchable, even. He had never felt untouchable before.

The houses were mere pinpricks below him. The sight of the cars as small as ants startled him at first, but he soon took in a deep breath, and turned his face upwards. He was nearly in the clouds, and still he rose higher. He was careful to avoid ducking straight into clouds, however. He knew from experience that it would do nothing but soak him with cold water.

He flew on. Below him, the small dots of light disappeared, leaving only green, rolling countryside. Something about the scenery comforted him, the feeling of happiness strangely surprising in his empty stomach. On that note, he couldn't remember the last time he had stopped for something to eat...

But he couldn't stop. He had to follow the snow-white owl's directions. She had recognized him...she had seemed to know who he was. A surprising fact, since _he_ didn't even know who he was. She had told him where to go, and of course he had listened to her.

Any apprehension he had at the idea was banished quickly by the feeling of recognition he got from looking at the landscape below him. He had been here before...maybe even lived here. This could be the key to his past...

Without warning, his heart nearly burst through his skin with a rush of feeling so deep, he almost fell out of the sky. He ducked below a cloud to get a better look at the thing that had startled him so greatly, and his eyes landed on the castle in front of him.

It stood in front of him like a mirage, barely lit up by the moon above. It was gigantic, especially compared to his small size. There did not seem to be a single light on inside, and still it gave off a sort of glow. It was not a physical glow, but rather one inside of himself. There was a powerful aura around the castle, and he could feel it flowing through his body almost like an electric current. It was the same aura that the white owl had given off to him...one that felt almost like...magic.

Without a second thought, he bent his head down, aiming for the ground.

It felt like...he was home.

* * *

The smell of vomit and urine was the first thing to meet Remus Lupin's nose as he entered the fortress of Azkaban. His senses were heightened, of course, due to the coming of the full moon. His golden eyes flickered over the huddling bodies, trying to seek solace in the corners of their cells. He walked past them, ignoring the muffled sound of their screams.

He walked all the way to the last cell. Its inhabitant, a tall, dark haired man with a hooked nose that somehow didn't suit his face, sat staring almost complacently at him. Remus should have known that Severus Snape would not be reduced to mumbling incoherently on the ground of his prison cell. The man had been through terrible things in his life, and still the guards of Azkaban did not produce any noticeable change in him.

Snape's eyes twitched with what Remus expected was surprise. He had anticipated a reaction like this, and so he knelt down on the other side of the cell bars, so that the other man was level with him.

"It is me, Severus...Moony," he whispered. Even the dementors would not be able to tell his identity through all of the charms he had performed on himself in the past year or so...how could Snape?

But it appeared that he had been able to recognize him. His eyebrows rose with a start, and he cautiously scooted forward. Remus concealed a wince, hearing a distinct moan of agony come from the cell behind them. He instead concentrated on Snape, and the news he had to tell him.

"To what do I owe this unexpected and surely not all very pleasurable visit?" Now that Remus was closer, he could see the lines of wear on Snape's face. His eyes looked sunken, much like Sirius Black's had looked on his escape from Azkaban too many years ago. And yet Snape was able to maintain even a pinch of his old smooth drawl. Remus wondered how he was doing it. Was he an Animagus, too, and had he kept it concealed the entire time?

But there was no time for this. As secure as he felt in his disguise, he was not comfortable with the idea of spending a suspicious amount of time in Azkaban. He was a werewolf only part of the time, and the dementors had the same effect on him as they did on normal humans. "I have news, Severus."

"Oh, marvelous." Through his sneer, Remus could hear the exhaustion in his voice, and yet the twinkling of hope behind it. He understood that it must have been hard for the other man, trapped in here with no real hope of escape. He had been revealed as a spy, and imprisoned immediately. But still, it was not every day that former Order members paid him a visit. In fact, he was not sure that Severus had seen any of them since the end of the war, besides the ones that were in here with him. And even then, they were not exactly granted the privilege of being in each other's company.

"We...we think we may have found a way," Remus chose his words carefully, keeping his voice low. The dementors were not in sight, and he could not feel them, either. But he did not want to be careless.

"A way to what?" Snape's voice was harsh, and Remus could see a spark of the old flash in his eye.

"To win." His words were short, and not carefully chosen. He spoke for a moment with unmasked passion, and he was sure that the excitement shone on his unrecognizable face.

Snape gave a short laugh, one that sounded almost like a growl. This time Remus could clearly see the flashing of his eyes as the dark haired man leaned back and studied him.

"To win, my friend? We cannot win what is no longer being fought. We cannot triumph when we are not in battle...there can be no victory without a struggle. And the only way you could start the struggle would be with sufficient backing. I hate to be the one to point it out to you, old fellow, but the Order is broken. Dumbledore is dead. And your precious Golden Boy is gone as well." Snape's voice was hoarse as he spoke with near rage. He stared at Remus with such ferocity that the werewolf found it almost wonderful to tell him the news.

"But that's just it..." He leaned in closer to the bars, his golden eyes sparkling, as they had not for years. He looked over his shoulders once more, checking once more to see that nobody was paying them any attention. And then he spoke.

"_We've found Harry_."

* * *

Draco always remembered Harry, it seemed.

Really, when it came down to it, the boy had been there for every important event in his life. Or at least those that Draco felt were worth remembering. True, he hadn't been there for the moment when Draco got his first broom...or even when he had gotten his letter to Hogwarts. He wasn't there for the first time Draco went drinking. He wasn't there for his first kiss, or his first time in bed with a woman.

But he had been there for the times when it had really mattered. He had been there when the pale boy decided to join the Dark Lord. This decision had been made in his fifth year at Hogwarts, when he was only a child and far too young to understand where a pledge like this would lead him. But he had been naive, and oh so bent on revenge. His father was in prison, and Harry had been the cause. Family and personal pride had sent Draco over the edge, and right then he had decided. The choice had led him into something far darker than he had expected.

But Harry had also been there the night that Draco decided to turn to the Order. That night at the Burrow when the Death Eaters stormed. It had been the first night of summer, and the Weasley's had all gathered at the Burrow to celebrate the graduation of the only Head Girl in the family, little Ginny. She would be joining the Order, the same as the rest of her family, as soon as she started her own training to be an Auror. A joyous occasion, surely. The Death Eaters had felt it would only be appropriate that they dropped by to pay their respects, as well.

Draco saved Harry and Ron's lives that night. He watched his father laugh as he killed Ginny Weasley, and he didn't tell him that the boys were outside on the makeshift Quidditch pitch, barely hidden by a group of trees as they flew around. And when the Death Eaters had Disapparated, leaving behind the dead bodies of the entire Weasley clan under the smoldering ruin that had been Ron's home, Draco had come back. He had thrown down his mask and looked Harry Potter in the face as he stood under the green, glittering light of the Dark Mark.

They still hadn't trusted him. He didn't think he blamed them, especially Ron. He had lost his entire family. So had Draco, but that was something different. His family had not been like the Weasleys. And years too late, he was finally able to understand that his family had not been better.

Draco's memories of Harry were mostly from that time. The four short months when Draco was part of the Order, in the same double-agent role as Severus Snape. He had done his best to ignore all of his old feelings about Harry that had been beaten into him during his time at Hogwarts and his time with the Death Eaters. And somehow, in the midst of all of it, new feelings had developed. Feelings of strange admiration that at first sickened him...this was the great Harry Potter, who Draco had been so set against worshipping like the rest of humanity. But being in close contact with him made Draco see it all differently. Of course, he'd never been able to confront all of that. Because it had all ended so quickly...

The day that Dumbledore died was the day that the war ended. By that time, Harry was already gone. The Dark Lord had thrown back his serpent-like head, and he had laughed. And the purge began. No supporter of Dumbledore and his beliefs was left to talk about it, and those who did were quickly thrown into Azkaban or worse. As for the Order of the Phoenix...

It sickened Draco to remember how helpless they had been without Harry and Dumbledore. Aurors had died in such masses that it was shocking to think that they were supposed to be the most powerful wizards available. Now there were six members of the Order left free, or alive. Six. Six, from the hundreds that had stood by their sides less than a year ago.

Draco was one of the six. Four of the others surrounded him as they huddled around the fire. They were not impressive looking, and many days he even wondered why they bothered to stick together. The obvious reason was that they were all fugitives, most of them presumed dead, and staying well hidden from the government of sorts that the Dark Lord was now ruling with.

Government. As if it could even be called that. From when he was a little boy, Draco had listened to his father talk about the day when the Malfoy's would be allowed the prestige and respect that they deserved. Having merely influence over the Minister of Magic was not what his father meant...what Lucius was referring to, of course, was his place as first mate to the Dark Lord when Tom Riddle finally began his reign. Now, at twenty years old, Draco was able to understand what his father had meant by prestige and respect. As newly appointed Minister of Magic, Lucius Malfoy was not hesitating in... _pushing his influence_ in places he had not been able to before. And as the Minister of Magic's traitor of a son, Draco had not hesitated in going deep into hiding. The roles of the two double agents had been revealed the day of the final battle, but only Draco had been able to escape. The old Potions Master was now rotting away in Azkaban, while Draco was a member of a secret organization plotting the downfall of the Dark Lord. Again.

Hogwarts had long been closed down. The Death Eaters had tried their best to get into it, to try and use it as another place where the Dark Lord could spread his powers. But Dumbledore had concealed it as well as he had concealed Harry...and they had not been able to get in at all. Consequently, they had not been able to find the members of the old Order, as the six of them were now residing in Hogwarts castle. It was a useful hideout...the house elves had remained, keeping the place quite livable. And places like the extensive library were more than a little helpful in the research they were working on.

He surveyed the room, his grey eyes looking at his companions without a trace of the contempt he would have felt during his time at Hogwarts. The war had beaten the animosity out of him. He was not a murderer. And it sickened him that it had taken nearly two years of killing to make him realize that.

A part of him was still disgusted at the simpering Gryffindor he had turned into. That part of him yearned for Crabbe and Goyle, even for a few moments, even to just have to order around for a little bit. But in the end, the other part always won out, and however begrudgingly, he felt thankful for the friendships he had come to cherish in the last few months. He did not regret his school years, at least not where Harry and his friends had been concerned. In his mind, the Weasel was as much of an idiot as he had always made him out to be, Granger was as insufferable, and Potter himself was a martyr continually out for a new lost cause to pull out of the mud. But now that they were grown up...it was a new story.

Ron and Hermione stayed wrapped underneath a blanket together. The redhead's hand was brushing gently on the cloth covering her shoulder, and she leaned her head into the crook of his neck. Draco had observed this particular romance for years, and had been surprised at his own relief when he had watched the two of them finally come to terms with it.

The other two members of the old Order in the room were far from a couple, of course. Draco felt a twinge of amusement at thinking of Professor McGonagall and Neville as such, and his eyes brushed over their respective figures. The aged woman, whom they now referred to as Minerva, lay curled up in cat form, her serene eyes gazing into the fire. And Longbottom, which Draco now called him without half as much condescension, sat quietly drinking from his hip flask.

He was surprised at their silence. The last few days had been much different in respect to the past ten months. In the last few days they had regained their hope, and it seemed as if they had finally found the purpose in staying together all of these months.

They had found Harry, of course.

Dumbledore hadn't made it easy. Draco suspected that Minerva was still sore about the whole thing, even after the old man had passed on at the hands of the Dark Lord. He had done it to protect Harry, but of all people, Dumbledore should have known that he was only committing the rest of the Wizarding world to an even longer war, one that was now extending into the Muggle world. Draco didn't want Harry to die, either. But he knew that what had to be done was inevitable. Dumbledore had only prolonged the people's suffering, in order for Harry to live.

But after months of strenuous, secret work, they had finally found him. In the end it had been Hedwig that had done it -- who else could find her owner, but the owl that had been Harry's for nearly ten years? She had been gone for so long, that they had thought she had too been killed. And when she finally returned, it had been quite a job to figure out what she had found. But Remus had gone down to the Forbidden Forest, and came back with an unmistakable smile on his face. It was Harry, alright.

Draco supposed that everyone was just quiet, because they were waiting. Not the same time of hopeless, desperate waiting, as before. Now it was impatient. Everybody in this room with Draco was perfectly anxious for Lupin to come back. He was the only one that was safe outside of the castle, and had now slipped into a double-agent role of his own. But with his new appearance, he was known at the Ministry of Magic as Ian Dalry. An "Irish immigrant" who came to Britain upon the victory of the Dark Lord, he was moving quite rapidly up the ladder at the Ministry, and was the Order's only real link to the outside world. And today he would be bringing home Harry.

Draco himself was worried about the consequences. After ten months, one could hardly blame him for being wary about bringing back the Golden Boy. With the addition of Harry, they would be seven. And the Dark Lord was much more powerful than he had been even at their graduation. He was running the Wizarding population of Britain, now, and according to Remus' information, he was gathering for the war on the Muggles. What could Harry do? The boy had been...well, he had been gone for a long time. And Draco had no idea what he had been _doing_, either.

A noise at the door made the five of them look up sharply. Draco noted the way that Neville instinctively reached for his wand, though his hand relaxed as Lupin's head, now covered with jet-black hair, poked in through the doorway.

Minerva transformed immediately, her expression tense as she looked at the werewolf. "Have you got him?"

"Oh, yes," he said, sounding almost amused. Draco watched with bated breath as Remus Lupin drew back his cloak, revealing a rather large, quivering owl. Through the glistening black feathers that covered the bird, Draco could see a faint marking of white down on the owl's forehead.

A lightning bolt.


	3. Chapter Two: The Power of an Old Niche

**Author's Notes:** I'd first like to reply to one of my reviewers, with questions that may be helpful to all readers.

**Encaitarince**: thank you so much for your comments! In response to your questions...1. The accent on Aimée, apologies, I am a Spanish and German speaker, but not French. I can assure you that if it comes up again, it will be in correct French form! 2. Virginia vs. Ginevra – I wrote this and posted it before J.K.Rowling had made that particular announcement...or at least, before I read it. And since it was already posted, I decided that a bit of creative license is quite alright...and besides, most of the fandom already had her as a Virginia already. 3. The F. Weasley thing and mistakes in the overall Ministry list are intentional, and will become quite clear to you in later chapters. Basically, the Ministry doesn't know everything. We can leave it at that, I believe.

Other than that, I would like to remind my readers that I'm making up a universe beyond the scope of Hogwarts and what we're given by J.K. Rowling. I have to make up a lot of my own details, and I ask that you just bear with me. I hope that the end product will be pleasing enough.

So, without further ado, chapter two!

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**Chapter Two**

**The Power of an Old Niche**

"Whoa..." breathed Neville in a manner that made Draco remember exactly why he had made fun of the boy for seven years at school. He, however, did not hesitate in joining his companions as they slowly made their way over to Remus.

"I can't believe he did this..." murmured Hermione as she reached out to stroke the large ebony owl. The animal shrunk away from her touch, the large eyes blinking rapidly. Remus no doubt had the animal under a charm that kept it relatively still on his arm, Draco thought, if the fear on the bird's face was anything to go by.

"And without telling anybody. Honestly, am I the only registered Animagus here?" The old Professor let out a 'tutting' noise, adjusting the spectacles on her nose to survey the owl more carefully.

"Yeah, well at least you knew when we were attempting transformation. Harry never even told us." Ron couldn't hide the small amount of hurt to show in his voice, even as he inspected the owl that his best friend was currently transformed into.

Draco made an irritated noise in the back of his throat, slowly pushing through the others so that he was standing at the front of the crowd. "All of this is very nice. But can we please do the magic so that we know this actually _is_ Harry?"

"Come on, Draco, you can tell it's Harry. Look at the scar!" Neville insisted. Hermione and Ron stayed silent, though Draco could feel both of their gazes piercing into the side of his head.

"I see no scar. I see a similar marking made of _feathers_. Let's just get on with it." He had no idea why he was acting so stiffly irritated. The presence of the bird in the room seemed to put him on edge, and he didn't like it. He had grown so used to the idea of impending doom and eventually dying at the hands of the Death Eaters, that a positive change sent him off his rocker. Draco supposed that was one of his worse flaws - the inability to deal with change.

Remus and Minerva had exchanged a glance at the tone Draco had used. For a moment Draco felt compelled to at least blush in response to their glance, but the feeling quickly passed. Instead, he fixed them with a cool stare. Giving him a swift glance back, the older woman drew out her wand, pointing it at the owl on Lupin's arm, preparing to change back Harry. Lupin saw her, and his eyes widened considerably. Clearing his throat, he gently set the animal down onto the ground, holding his own wand at the ready. He took a step back, allowing Minerva the room she required for the spell. Draco lifted his arms to cross over his chest, ignoring the knot that had settled itself in his stomach.

Minerva McGonagall raised the wand in her right hand towards the trembling owl on the floor, and prepared to restore the twenty-year-old boy to his true form.

Draco braced himself as she pointed the wand forcefully at Harry, and a brilliant flash of white-blue light appeared from her wand.

He heard Hermione gasp loudly, and out of the corner of his eye saw Neville jump. The owl let out a loud shriek, and they were all forced to take a few steps back as he unfolded his great feathered wings. Lupin quickly raised his wand again to stop him from flying from the room.

They all stood silent for a few moments, each drinking in the failure of what they had thought would be the final step in restoring the Boy Who Disappeared. Draco grunted, raising a hand to run through his white blond hair, as he stared down at the quivering mass of feathers before them. He thought he'd been foolish in thinking this would be easy, but the shock still hit him like a ton of bricks. Even though he had just snapped at Neville a few moments earlier, there was no way he could believe that this was a normal owl. But then...why hadn't the spell worked?

"But it would be too simple, wouldn't it?" It was Hermione's shaky voice that finally broke them out of their reverie. Draco locked eyes with Ron for a moment, and was not surprised to see the tall redhead looking as unsettled as his girlfriend sounded, and as Draco himself felt.

"I mean, if only one person could make him change back, the whole idea wouldn't be very smart, would it? Anyone could do it..." Hermione continued. She dropped off again for a moment, her stammering seeming staggeringly uncharacteristic. She raised her eyes to survey them all when she opened her mouth again. "I'm just saying that if Dumbledore when through all of this trouble to hide Harry, he wouldn't make it so any Death Eater could pluck him out of the sky and change him back. He'd make it a bit more complicated than that."

Draco met her eyes slowly. She made a fair point, one that they had addressed several times before. Bringing Harry back would _not_ be easy. And yet when they had Minerva perform the spell, they had expected just that. Hermione was still shaking when her gaze moved back to Harry, who was hooting pathetically from the floor. Ron stepped closer to her, also looking up at Draco as he draped an arm around her shoulders. Draco himself took a deep breath before addressing the adults in front of them.

"So maybe it will take more of us to change him back? Or a certain one of us?" Neville shifted as Draco spoke, lifting his round face to peer up at the blond boy. They had all changed tremendously during the years of the second war, but none so much as Neville. Though Draco wouldn't freely admit it, he may have felt a slight tingle of admiration for the boy. Somewhere deep down, of course. But he could, at least, tolerate him. And that was saying something.

"I believe it will be something like that." Minerva's powerful voice had long grown a bit more tired sounding than it had ever been while they were at Hogwarts, but it still brought them to attention like not much else. They had unofficially named her their leader, a fact that was obvious since she was the oldest of the six, with far more experience in magic and the world. "Albus was highly interested in the Selectus charm. A very complex charm, of course, it can be used on almost anything. I believe Remus and the rest used a form of it on that map of theirs...so that those with only certain intentions could use it."

She looked at Remus from over her glasses, and for a moment the man looked like a sheepish Gryffindor narrowly escaping punishment. But Minerva continued, her gaze traveling over the others.

"Selectus charms can work in other ways too, of course. If Albus so chose, I am positive that he could have sealed Harry in the form of his Animagus, and charmed him so that only a few, or a certain one of us could bring him back. He would, of course, certainly add that we could only do it of our own free will, and not by force." Minerva concluded, staring over her square-rimmed glasses at the dark feathered owl.

Draco did not bother voicing the thoughts running through his head. While he was intensely relieved to have Harry back with them, he could not help the small amount of incredulous indignation rising inside of him. What right did Dumbledore have to imprison a man? Even if it had been for the greater good (though Draco somehow doubted this, as the entire Wizarding community of Britain was now under Voldemort's rule), he could not imagine that Harry himself would have been happy with the idea. Draco knew all too well about the boy's severe hero complex, oh how it had annoyed him. And Draco felt sure that transforming into an owl and letting the world fall to Voldemort would not have been on Harry's agenda.

But he stayed silent. Though Draco had never seen Albus Dumbledore in quite the same way Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, and Neville Longbottom had, he still had a great deal of respect for the man. And out of equal respect for his friends, he refrained from telling them exactly what he was thinking.

It was Neville that broke the silence this time. Though he had grown into a much more powerful wizard, and his body no longer had quite as much leftover baby fat, the boy still held a naïve quality about him tonight. He trembled slightly as he addressed the others.

"H-How will we know? I mean, if it has to be a certain person. How will we know?"

"I have no doubt that if Albus chose only one person for Harry's release, they are standing right with us." Nobody missed Minerva's eyes as they landed on Ron and Hermione. "However, I am fairly certain that it would be a better idea for all of us to try the spell."

"Right." Ron said rather grimly, moving to roll up his sleeves before pulling his wand from the back pocket of his pants. Hermione reached for hers, as well, though her face still looked rather pale.

Remus already had his wand out in front of him, and Neville's was at his side. It only took Draco a moment to retrieve his wand from the inside of his robes. He was then ready to join his five companions in bringing back Harry Potter.

_Bringing back Harry Potter_, Draco repeated to himself. For a moment, the name produced a chill similar to one he had felt years ago, before he had even met the boy in Madam Malkin's robe shop, before they had become archenemies, before he had ever had the urge to kill him.

But there was no time for nostalgia now. Draco stood waiting as the others drew closer, and they formed a small circle around the owl.

"On my mark." Minerva whispered, as if speaking loudly would somehow break them all into small pieces.

"One..."

Below them, the owl trembled, obviously disturbed by the close presence of so many people.

"Two..."

Draco gripped his wand, hoping that he could muster the force to use the spell he had learned years ago on a Death Eater revel, of all places. Next to him he could sense Neville shivering, probably having the same worries as Draco about remembering the spell.

"Three!"

Six arms clenched tightly, six wands pointed at the center object. There was a gasp, a whimper, and a muffled curse. Draco stayed calm, ignoring the rising emotion in his chest as there was a brilliant flash of white and blue light, and _oh_ all of a sudden there were arms and legs and – he was growing so fast, Draco was never that fast when he – and...and...

And lying shaken and scared on the ground was Harry Potter.

Ron let out a shout of loud laughter, while from next to him Hermione burst into tears. Neville gave a whimper of relief, and Draco couldn't help tossing him a shaky smile.

But yet, the pale boy noticed as the smile slipped from his face, Harry was showing no visible change. He was not leaping up and pulling Ron into a brotherly embrace, nor was he rushing to Hermione's side to comfort her, nor any other Gryffindor-like thing. Quite the contrary, in fact. The trembling mass on the ground could have still been an owl hooting fearfully, had it not been for the legs and absence of wings.

Minerva and Lupin seemed to notice this too, as Draco caught them giving each other quite an unreadable glance. The other three paid them no attention, of course. Harry's school friends crowded around him, causing him to cringe in a way Draco found quite noticeable.

Ron, of course, was especially inept at picking up signals of this sort, and before anyone could stop him, he kneeled down next to Harry, speaking in a voice that seemed all together too loud.

"Harry, mate, it's incredible to see you. You have no idea what we've been through, trying to find you. I...we...oh, bloody hell, come here."

But Ron had only merely extended his arm towards Harry when the dark haired boy let out a yelp and backed quickly away from them.

Their expressions changed with such immensity, that Draco knew at any other time he would be laughing his backside off at them. Now, instead, he merely felt the familiar knot of hopeless resignation forming in his stomach. They had been so stupid to think it would be that easy...

Hermione gasped from her place on the ground near Harry. "Harry, dear, what's wrong, we – "

But he backed away from her, whimpering so much that even Minerva made a choked up noise in the back of her throat.

"He doesn't...he can't...but..." Hermione was crying again, and Ron had gone sheet white. Draco again felt and suppressed that inclination towards telling them what he really thought...that they were incredible idiots to think that there was any way Albus Dumbledore was going to seal him away without first giving him some sort of –

"Memory charm." Neville took the words out of Draco's mind, his voice sounding glum. "And a good one, at that."

At once, it seemed, all eyes were on Neville. No one spoke, in worry that they would say something wrong. Neville, of course, had been subject to one of the strongest memory charms ever performed. It was a rather well known fact that Frank and Alice Longbottom, two of the greatest Aurors Britain had seen during the first war, had been tortured into insanity by Barty Crouch Junior, Bellatrix, Rodolphus, and Rabastan Lestrange in order to get possible information on their lord's whereabouts. It was a lesser-known fact, of course, that their son Neville was home at the time. By a stroke of unexplained luck, the Ministry of Magic came to the home of the Longbottoms and the Death Eaters Disapparated before they could get to the two-year-old boy. Ministry wizards of the best kind performed memory charms on the young boy, so strong that though they wiped the incident from his mind, they set him up for a very rough childhood with his inability to remember most things. He was eighteen when he found out the truth.

Ron and Hermione had said that this explained everything. They remembered from their school days, the way Neville forgot everything. Passwords, homework, the days of Hogsmeade visits...all of it. Draco thought it explained a lot, as well, though as soon as he found all of this out his mind naturally floated to an incident with broomsticks, flying lessons, and a Remembrall that ended up being the reason why Draco never won a single Quidditch match against Gryffindor.

But Neville's words echoed in each of their minds as they stared down at Harry. There was no doubt about it. Dumbledore had given him a very strong memory charm...though that, of course led to several more questions.

Hermione was already listing different types of Memory charms, and their characteristics. Draco was already half listening – he knew all of this already. There was a reason he had been her counterpart as Head Boy, and also a reason he had kept the post of Trainee in the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes in the Ministry...Potions and Antidotes department, of course...but getting to the post had included a lot of research in the reversal of various magical catastrophes.

So Draco knew that there were many different types of memory charms that a person could use. There was an 'obliviate', used to wipe out memories almost completely. This was one of the strongest memory charms there was, and in many cases if used with too much power behind it, it could completely erase the victim's memory. One of the best-known cases of this was Gilderoy Lockhart. Another type, the Confundus Charm, did not completely erase a person's existing memory, and instead would merely cloak a particular incident. This was what the Obliviators had chosen to use on Neville Longbottom, as using an actual 'obliviate' would have probably set the boy back even further on his development of magical and natural abilities. A third, but not final, type of memory charm did much the same as the kind used on Neville. It was like the Confundus Charm in the way it tricked a person into forgetting an event, or even an entire series of events. But unlike the Confundus Charm, it could not be reversed easily. And it was much stronger, as well. If used by a powerful enough wizard, it could have the same effects as the other two, combined. A person could forget about an entire series of events, even up to a lifetime's worth...but instead of erasing them completely, they would merely be locked, waiting to be accessed. But the Suppressing Charm, as it was commonly called, could sometimes never be lifted. Sometimes.

Voldemort had found ways to prove over and over again that memory charms could be broken. Draco had even seen him do it. And when he combined the Dark Lord's less-than-pleasant tactics with his own knowledge of the memory charm he was sure had been used on Harry, he came up with the perfect way to do it.

Hermione was still droning on about the carrying out of a Suppressing Charm, and all eyes were on either her, or Harry. No one paid attention as Draco reached for his wand again, whispering under his breath, "_Accio Silver Star_."

The international standard broom, which had been sitting in the corner of the second floor room they were currently in, trembled for a moment before coming soundlessly into Draco's hand. When he had brought his broom up this afternoon in hopes of getting Minerva to agree to let him out and fly for a bit, he had never imagined that the fruitless attempt would have come in handy anyway. He took a moment to square his shoulders, and make sure that his hair was in place. And then he strode forward, taking great care in nearly knocking Neville over as he came to stop in front of Ha—_Potter_.

"Well, Potter." He spit out the words, staring down at the dark haired mass on the floor and ignoring the tingle on the back of his neck as every head in the room turned to gape at him. "It took you bloody long enough. Don't tell me you got lost _again, _you've lived in this castle for long enough."

Harry stared up at him with the same horrorstruck expression he had been staring at Ron and Hermione with. But slowly...Draco watched the lines on his forehead increase in intensity, and the brilliant green eyes flicker towards the broomstick that Draco was holding jauntily in front of him. That was the acknowledgement that Draco had been waiting for, and he drove forward, barely pausing to catch his breath as he continued.

"You like my broom, do you? Yes...my father got one for me, as well as the rest of the Slytherin house team. Outstrips that old Firebolt at zero to one-fifty in seven seconds, instead of a Firebolt's ten. It's a shame, Potter, at least before I could say that it was real talent that kept me on my broom, instead of having equipment better than yours. Now I've got both..."

The expression on Harry's face was still more bewildered than Draco had hoped. At least he could see that his abject terror had subsided, and he was now becoming more blank than anything. But Draco did not want him blank. He wanted him to react, he wanted to see a glimpse of Potter, just to know that they could do it.

"Now tell me, are you going to take all day getting to the Quidditch match, as well? I sure bloody hope not, I want to win quickly today. My father's come to see me, you see. And I...well, I don't suppose you'd know what I mean, since _your_ parents have never, and _will _never, see you play Quidditch...or do anything, for that matter."

And here came the reaction Draco had been waiting for. Harry's eyes, seeming more brilliantly green than ever before, widened in outrage behind his glasses, and as quick as lightning he had launched himself from the floor and towards Draco. Draco, anticipating this, took a few quick steps back. Ron filled the space where he had been, easily holding the other boy back.

"Careful there, Potter. Don't want to let Umbridge see you, you might get yourself on another Quidditch ban." Draco swept his cloak back, the smug smirk feeling like an old, unpleasant friend on his face.

Harry made an outraged noise, his arms flailing uselessly. Ron was having the smallest bit of difficulty holding him back, and Minerva quickly stepped forward to help him. Harry's eyes fell upon the older woman and widened again, though this time it seemed to be out of relief.

"Professor McGonagall! Professor, did you hear him?! I – Ron, let _go_ of me – Professor, you won't let Umbridge – "

Everyone seemed rooted to the spot as Harry's outburst continued. Draco, feeling vaguely satisfied, took this opportunity to leave the candle-lit room for the dark and chilly hallway. He leaned against the cool stone wall, finally realizing the death grip he had on his broomstick. He gently let it go, not caring a bit as it clattered to the ground.

He heard footsteps behind him, and raised his eyes from the floor as Ron stood in front of him, his face flushed and nearly as red as his hair.

"Malfoy..._Draco_." He choked out, seeming caught in between taking a breath and laughing. "That...I never thought I would be able to say this about your ability to be a complete git, but...that was bloody _brilliant_. I mean, yes, he seems to think he's in fifth year still, but he's recognized us all now, he's...he's back."

"Yes, back." Draco repeated dully, his eyes fixed on a point somewhere above Ron's head. Ron seemed not to notice the sudden lack of vigor in Draco's temperament, and continued.

"This could be a little tricky, I'm sure...but we've got him back...and that's all that really matters, I think." Ron sighed, sounding delighted, and it took all of Draco's remaining strength not to scream at him and send him away.

He hadn't realized what it meant. He had been every bit as blinded and unknowing as he had always accused those accursed Gryffindors of being, and yet they somehow won out in this whole business. It was all so simple, why hadn't he understood before?

With Harry back, it would go back to how it was before. 1996. Remus Lupin would be the sad old man who deserved the greatest of sympathies because of a curse that was never his fault. Neville would go back to being the blundering, sweet idiot he had always been. Hermione would be the brainiac, searching for approval from their strict leader, Minerva – _Professor McGonagall_, rather. And Ron would take his place as Harry's best friend, his right hand man, no matter how much of a prat the redhead could be.

And instead of like it was in 2000, when Draco was able to utilize his knowledge...his passion, his thirst to _do something_...he would be shunted into being sixteen again. Sixteen, and the most evil thing that had ever graced Harry's presence, save a certain Lord Voldemort and Malfoy Senior. Draco, along with the friendships that had come to mean so much to him, would once again be lost. He wondered if Neville would think about the nighttime walks they would take, exploring the dungeons and speculating on Severus Snape's love life. Or if Hermione would even bother to remember all of the help he would give her in the library, perusing through books it seemed only the two of them enjoyed, because Ron was against studying now that they had graduated. He wondered if Ron would care about the times they snuck out on Invisibility cloaks (pinched from the Ministry of Magic, no less) and played Quidditch in the night air, enduring harsh rebukes from McGonagall the moment they got back.

Now that Harry was back, Draco was put back into his place, as well. No more wonderful 'I-can't-believe-I-used-to-hate-him' Draco. Just Malfoy.

Draco had forgotten how easy it was to hate Harry Potter.

**please review!**


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